His Servant, His Slave, His Friend
by Emily Poe
Summary: Arthur is a prostitute, selling his body to make a living. One evening, a mysterious stranger comes calling on him... FrUk vampireAU yaoi boyxboy you were warned. Constructive criticism appreciated.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA AXIS POWERS AND IN NO WAY MAKE A PROFIT FROM THIS.**

**WARNINGS: Cursing and badly written sex scenes**

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><p>Arthur learned two things the night he laid in bed with the mysterious man laying next to him. One, was that vampires did have reflections.<p>

Arthur had been defiled, had been ravished, had even been raped. The night Francis came was not his first and most definitely would not be his last. Arthur was a prostitute. He sold his body to make a means to live. He was not embarrassed and he did not accept the pity of others. The fist time he had had sexual intercourse was at the tender age of fourteen, only it was with a girl that time, who was only a little older than he. She had been beautiful, tender pink skin and long locks of raven black hair. Her eyes had been the deepest black. That was what drew Arthur in, her eyes. She had coaxed him, pleaded with him, mercilessly, with those black eyes. In the end, Arthur had given in, well, once alcohol was introduced. The young vixen, not at all innocent, took the innocence of Arthur. She had had him, and once she was through with him, threw him to the side. He was just another man on a long list of lovers she had. Arthur had once heard she had the curse (or incredible gift) of being barren.

After that, Arthur had gone into a deep depression. He was sorrowful, angry, confused, just about every conflicting emotion you could think of. His friends and family had stuck by him through it though, especially Alfred, golden boy Alfred, self proclaimed hero Alfred. Arthur's best friend, and yet...not the one he had confided in about the reason he was depressed, not the one Arthur told about the young vixen. It had been, actually, a distant friend, a Spaniard named Antonio. But, friend isn't the right word, no. Antonio hated Arthur more than anything, and it was nothing of Arthur's fault. Partially, it was because of Arthur's English blood and partially it was because of feud between their families. Either way, Antonio hated Arthur, but never truly let on about it. Arthur, from his view, got on well with Antonio, not enough to call him "Toni" like many close friends of Antonio, but just enough. Arthur had been on holiday in Madrid, Antonio's home, and went to Antonio's house as soon as possible, not having the courage to tell anyone at his home, not even his own brothers. Antonio had heard about Arthur's depression through friends and figured he could use it to his benefit if he ever came into contact with Arthur in the near future. When Arthur had arrived at Antonio's home, Antonio had been the only one there, his parents out on business in Belgium and his sister on holiday in Portugal. The timing couldn't have been any better for Antonio. As Arthur arrived, he immediately offered a drink to Arthur, which Arthur accepted. As Antonio brought Arthur his drink, Arthur immediately told Antonio why he had been so depressed. Arthur felt as though he could trust Antonio and getting the secret off his chest seemed to lift a big weight from his shoulders. Antonio was two years older than Arthur, who at that time was fifteen and Antonio was seventeen.

To be blunt, Antonio was shocked at the news. The situation couldn't work out any better. Antonio had immediately gotten an idea. He brought in two more bottles of wine to share with Arthur. Glass after glass, Arthur became more open and emotional. Antonio had barely drunk out of his glass, still nursing his first cup. Soon Arthur's cheeks were red with the alcohol and he was leaning on and telling Antonio all sorts of secrets, though Antonio had only one thing on his mind. Setting his glass down on the table, he turned to look at Arthur, who was rambling on about something or other that didn't really concern Antonio. Swiftly and none too gently, Antonio grasped Arthur's chin and quickly pushed Arthur back onto the couch, Antonio hovering over him, one hand still holding Arthur's chin, the other hand pressed into the couch near Arthur's head. Antonio's left leg was braced against the floor by the couch and the other was right between Arthur's legs, coming dangerously close to his crotch. Arthur had lost all train of thought, gazing up at Antonio, eyes wide with shock and something else. Antonio smiled a feral smile, realizing what the other thing was. _Fear_. He put his face closer to Arthur's, right next to his ear. "You are lacking love, _mi amigo_. That girl couldn't give it to you and neither can your beloved Alfred. But, I can. _Te voy a enseñar cómo se puede amar._ Antonio's leg shoved harshly between Arthur's legs.

Arthur hadn't even consented before Antonio had basically dragged Arthur back to his bed chambers. That was the first time Arthur had ever been with a man, and it had been terrifying, but...also wonderful. Antonio did not rush, push in quickly, or even hurt Arthur that much. He was slow, caressing and kissing each part of Arthur's body, making the experience as enjoyable as possible. He prepared Arthur thoroughly, and only pushed in when Arthur gave him permission. He held back from thrusting hard until Arthur asked for it. If asked, Arthur would recount it as the most enjoyable sexual experience he has ever had. And also, one of his worst memories. That was how Antonio broke him. He behaved just like they were lovers, lovingly touching, holding, and kissing Arthur, when, really, it was all just a play.

Once Antonio had finished with Arthur, he left him there, in the bed, totally worn out from the experience. Arthur slept for a matter of hours and when he finally wake up, alone in the dark chambers, it was already night. Antonio was no where in the room and Arthur couldn't find his clothes. He was at a loss. He didn't feel comfortable borrowing any of Antonio's clothes, even though they were close to the same size, Antonio only being a little bigger than Arthur. No, instead, Arthur wrapped a bed sheet around himself, walking out into the quiet house. He found Antonio just down the hallway, in the sitting room, reading a book on the couch where it all began. Arthur was immediately embarrassed at seeing Antonio, as the alcohol was wearing off the memories were starting to come back about their afternoon together. Antonio obviously heard Arthur behind him and spoke out. "So you're finally awake, _mi amigo_? You took a mighty long _siesta_." Antonio turned back, a innocent smile on his face. What a lie. "I took it upon myself to wash your clothes, they had quite a lot of sweat on them, I hope you don't mind. The should be dried by now, I guess I should go get them." Antonio spoke, starting to stand. Arthur had just started to feel a bit comfortable, now. That was, until Antonio came over and placed a hand on a bare shoulder not covered by the sheet and leaned in close to his ear, speaking huskily, seductively. "Because, you know, you have to leave. I can't let my little Romano come in here to discover you wrapped up in my bed sheets. I'm actually a little angry with you, Arthur. You just might have been even better than my little Romano in bed. Maybe different sexual partners every now and then would be alright. Different grunts, different gasps, different tightness. Different experience all together." Antonio raised his head, looking straight at Arthur, who was now frozen. Antonio's hand lightly caressed Arthur's cheek as Antonio smiled a sweet smile, a sweet lie. "What do you say Arthur, would you like to be part of that?"

Arthur left immediately after he had dressed, more embarrassed and confused than he had ever been. He had no one he could confide with. Every person he saw, friends, acquiescence's, family, he felt if he confided in any of them what had happened, they would turn away from him, or worse, take advantage of him, like Antonio had done. He didn't trust anyone, not his brothers, his mother, not even Alfred. It scared him, it scared him that Alfred might actually do the same thing an hurt him, just like Antonio did, just like that vixen had done. So, he ran away. He just, ran away. He didn't know what to do and what little money he took with him soon ran out. He was left begging on the streets for coins, scraps of food, anything that could keep him alive. Then, one night, wrapped in a dirty blanket in an alley, unable to sleep, a man approached him, in a long black coat, with a scarf covering his face and hat over his eyes, like he was hiding. He looked from his left to his right to his left again, before looking down on Arthur. Arthur remembered his eyes, they had been brown, a muddy brown. The man, he said he would pay Arthur very nicely if Arthur did something for him. In Arthur's mind, that as the night he became a prostitute. And the man had paid nicely, for the service and for Arthur to stay quiet about that night, since he had seen the man's face and all. A few days after, another man approached him, an acquaintance of the first man. He did the same thing as the first man. For weeks afterward he had quite a nice steady flow of customers. He even earned a street name, Britannia's Angel. He could now buy food, clothes, he even had an apartment. He was never questioned about the many males that came in at night, the management always turned the other way and the occupants of the little apartment building never had a problem with it, as long as it was at night, it didn't bother them. The noise sometimes upset them, but Arthur fixed that by soundproofing the walls, with the management's consent, of course.

By the time of this story, when Arthur was twenty three, he had bought himself his own house. It was small, but comfortable and clean and was actually in a nice part of town, where the outside looked perfect and everyone had dark secrets. It was a place he was not bothered at. And now, nearing one in the morning, Arthur had just walked his last customer right out the door. He hadn't bothered getting his pants back on, just putting his boxers on and and dress shirt on. His customers liked how he dressed like a gentleman and acted like a seductress. But, just when he was turning out the lights in his home, a knock came at the door. Though it was strange, Arthur thought nothing of it at the time, assuming it was simply a customer who might have forgotten something. He walked to the door, a bit slowly since he was quite worn out from the night's work, and grasped the door handle, turning it an opening the door. In the dark of the night stood not a customer, but a rather handsome man whom Arthur had never seen before. He was taken aback at the man's beauty and for a moment, was frozen. The man smiled and took Arthur's hand, kissing it a lightly. That brought Arthur out of his shock as he quickly snatched his hand away, slightly embarrassed. The man smiled still sweetly, his blue eyes boring into Arthur, eyes that were so like a young man Arthur once knew...

"Won't you please, let me in?" asked the stranger, sweetly, a distinct French accent dripping from his tongue. Arthur, ashamed for forgetting his manners, nodded and stepped aside. "Yes, please, come in sir." The Frenchman strutted in, taking in his surroundings. Arthur lit an old oil lamp he had bought some time ago, making the room glow in the soft light. Arthur preferred oil lamps to anything else, giving off a sort of elegance. They were nice and Arthur had many.

After examining the room, the man turned around and smiled sweetly, thin lips stretched. Arthur smiled back, playing the part of a nice host. "You have a very nice home, _séducteur_." The man purred the last word and came closer to Arthur. It was then Arthur took not of his clothes and style. He wore a black evening suit with a tail coat and a white blouse with frills along the middle where you would unbutton the shirt. He was obviously wealthy, and confident too, carrying himself as so. Perhaps a high place in society, business most likely or perhaps politics, though that was less likely, considering his age, he was only a little older than Arthur himself. He had a stubble across his chin, so he didn't shave often, and his somewhat long, curly hair was tied up with a black ribbon. He was a man of fashion, very elegant. This could be worth Arthur's wild, the man would definitely pay very well. But, then again, Arthur was very tired from the night's work, and also quite sore. If he could convince the man to come back tomorrow, then everything would be fine.

"I do my best." Arthur answered, sweetly, back, walking forward towards his guest until they were only an inch from each other. It was risky, what he was doing. The man was stronger than him and, if he were like any other Frenchman Arthur had met, he would have a high sex-drive and little patience. But, if this did succeed, he could get the man to come back tomorrow night, and maybe more nights afterward, and Arthur would be able to get his rest and prepare for him. "It's awful hard, my work. More so than you think, so many things could go wrong, but it's worked out very nicely for me." Arthur said, in a seductive tone. And then, he stepped back and sat on the couch. "I'm sure of what you're here for, and I would love to give it to you. But, for tonight I'm completely worn out, you wouldn't have much fun." The man smirked, listening to Arthur. Arthur realized this would be a tough one. "You could always come back tomorrow night. You could even be my first customer, and if you want, my only." Arthur spoke, low voice, seductively.

The man chuckled as he leaned down over Arthur, caressing Arthur's cheek with his thumb, looking deep into the forest greens eyes. Arthur had not expected the man to lean down so suddenly. Before he could say anything, though, he was lost in seas of blue. The man's eyes just drew him in. To Arthur, they were endless ocean pools, sucking him in. Arthur felt his strength go. His heart pounded and everything within him told him to _get away._ Arthur lifted a hand and tried pushing against the man's chest, but to no avail. He lifted his other hand and pushed again, turning his face away, scared for the first time in years, his head screaming at him _get away, get away_. The man laughed, moving close to Arthur, who's arms fold up against his chest, useless. Hot breath on his ear and a wandering hand on his neck, Arthur shivered, knowing perfectly well how this would end. "Oh, but Arthur, I want to be your only customer..._forever._" Arthur let out a gasp and his eyes widened at the words. He had never told the man his name, he was sure of that. Was he really that well known. At the moment in time, he couldn't even think much about it. His body was shivering and he felt like a five year old again, hiding under his blanket, hiding from the monsters.

Arthur and the unknown Frenchman were both back in Arthur's room, on his bed sheets. Arthur faced the foot of his bed, on his knees, a forceful hand on his back. His underwear was gone, his dress shirt was still on, and his ass was in the air. His heart was pounding in his ears as the side of his face was pressed into the bed. First one, then two, now three fingers were inside of him, thrusting slowly. Arthur was used to this, and even more, so there's wasn't too much pain. He still grunted, though, but only when the man thrusted deeply. The fingers then pulled out and the Frenchman wrapped an arm around Arthur, pulling him up to sit on his lap. He kissed a spot behind Arthur's ear, then a trail of kisses went down his neck and onto his shoulder, where Arthur's dress shirt was just barely hanging off. The man was completely naked. Arthur could both feel it and see it in the mirror, just across from the foot of the bed. Sweat was covering both of them, heavy breaths and trembling bodies. "I don't even know your name." Arthur said, weakly. The man smiled, almost sweetly, like he actually cared. "Francis."

Francis entered, thrusted, over and over, into Arthur, filling him. And then, in the mirror, Arthur's eyes, opened just slightly, saw the white fangs, glinting from the moonlight, sharp, long canines, hovering dangerously close to his soft, vulnerable neck. Their eyes made contact in the mirror, Francis's blue eyes, now with a deadly predatory look in them, and Arthur's green eyes, filled with both lust and with fear. As Francis bit down Arthur could not help but close his eyes from the mixture of bliss, pain, excitement, fear, and damnation on his soul, all wrapped up in one emotion that he could never describe, but always feel. A white light descended upon him from behind his closes lids and there was a moment where he could see, smell, taste, hear, touch nothing at all. He was alone, everything that ever was.

And then, he crashed back to Earth. Opening his eyes, his head was ringing just behind them and he felt as though he had drunken every wine bottle in his cellar. He was aching, everywhere, there wasn't a place that didn't hurt. Arthur groaned, rather unceremoniously and he tried rising from his position, which he had then realized was under the sheets and blanket of his bed, but then fell back onto his pillow. He could barely remember a thing that had happened before he had blacked out. He remembered a man, a handsome, beautiful, foreign man, and then, his memory went blank. Arthur rubbed his eyes and yawned, flipping over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Instantly, his body froze as he heard a snicker from the corner of the room. Arthur, stiffly, sat up in his bed and gazed at one spot in the room, where a man in black trousers and a white blouse sat on a chair. He had a wine glass in his hand and a read liquid inside of it. It was then that Arthur's memories came to him. They didn't flood back, no, they hit him like a steam engine. Arthur started to tremble. He lifted a hand to his neck and found that a cloth had been tied around it, and that the left side of his neck felt incredibly in pain and that there was a stiffness in the cloth there, like something wet had dried on it, something thicker than water. Something like blood. Arthur never took his eyes off of Francis, and he didn't even move when Francis rose from his seat, placing his wineglass down on a table, and moved towards the bed, towards Arthur. Francis crawled over Arthur, pushed him back into the sheets, smiling a sickly sweet smile, eyes glinting. It was at this point that Arthur should be noting his heart pounding, but...there was _nothing._ No heart beat at all. His eyes widened at the realization as he stared at the man hovering above him, straddling his hips, which were only just hidden by the sheet. The man reached down and caressed Arthur's cheek, smiling, still smiling. "You were lovely before, _mon ange,_ but now, you are the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. You're skin, so flawless, and shining like porcelain, and your eyes are aglow, like fireflies in a forest. You're hair could use some work, but we will fix that later, won't we." Francis smirked, trailing his fingers around Arthur's face, lovingly. Arthur had a rising fear within him and he opened his mouth to speak, to protest, to tell the man to get the hell out of his home. But, when he was about to speak, Francis raised his hand and pressed it to Arthur's lips. "Now, now,do not make a sound. Just keep silent, you are so wonderful when you cannot speak." And Arthur obeyed. HE tried to talk, tried very hard, but nothing would come out. What was happening to him? Panic rose as his fearful eyes looked straight and Francis's calm ones. Francis chuckled and lowered his face, kissing Arthur's cheek and then moved to his ear. "You look like a rabbit with your eyes . _Un lapin. Mon petit lapin._" Francis smiled darkly. "Mon petit lapin effrayé."

Arthur understood what he was saying and it only scared him more. He had realized Francis had total control over him, and it scared him like nothing else. He was no longer breathing, no longer had he blood coursing through his veins, letting him live. Francis laid down next to him, wrapping his strong arms around Arthur's small frame, burning him where his fingers touched his skin. "You are mine now, and you will never be anyone else's. That vixen is now gone. She wan't much of a meal, her blood was so rotten. And the Spaniard, the little conniving _putain_. He is gone too, though not by my hand. His little lover got very angry the night he found his lover fucking another. Your distractions are gone and all you have left is me."

Francis turned Arthur so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "I've been alone for so long, Arthur. It hurts, so much. I have you now though, so I will never be lonely again. I will never let you run away. You are mine."

They both laid there, as day passed slowly into evening. Francis had fallen asleep, but before doing so, he had said something to Arthur. "You are not to leave my side unless I say so. You will lie here the whole day with me." Arthur had no freedom anymore. He was a slave to a vampire. He thought long and hard on this all day. As night fell he learned two things. One was that vampires do have reflections. Two, was that he would spend the rest of his life being the servant, slave, and friend to an immortal being who was so very, very lonely in this world. A stray tear found it's way down Arthur's cheek and he cried silently, for he had been ordered not to make a sound.

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><p><strong>This fic HORRIBLY sucks. I apologize. That was a rather lame ending, and I'll say this, I have NEVER been good with endings. anyways, translations!<strong>

**Te voy a enseñar cómo se puede amar-Let me show you how I can love you**

**siesta-Nap**

**séduire-seducer**

**mon ange-my angel**

**Un lapin. Mon petit lapin.-A rabbit. My little rabbit**

**Mon petit lapin effrayé.-My scared little rabbit**

**putain-whore**

**Just saying, I used google translate, those these translations probably SUCK. Just saying.**

**Anyways, please, please, please! Review! Or, if you don't want to, you don't have to, totally up to you**


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